I Carry Your Heart With Me
by sportsnightnut
Summary: In this moment, there are only two realities: either Will dies, or Will lives. My take on 5.15 and the aftermath.
1. Part I: Sirens

**A/N: **Hi everyone! I've had a lot of inspiration this week, enough to publish multiple stories and drabbles. Thank you all so much for your reads, reviews, and support so far. It means a lot to me!

This is my take on 5.15 and the aftermath. I just re-watched 5.15-5.17 last night and I think they were more heart-wrenching the second time, knowing what was about to happen. I have been thinking about starting this story for a while but put off re-watching the episodes for my emotional stability. I'm sure you guys know what I mean!

It wasn't intended to be, but this is going to be a multi-chapter fic. I'm not entirely sure how many chapters, but let me put it this way-I had originally planned two chapters, but when this first part came out at 1200 words and I was nowhere near done with the first part of the story, I decided to split it up. It gives me more freedom to expand on different ideas and it gives you guys something to look forward to!

A couple of notes about the inspiration behind this fic. The title comes from an e.e. cummings poem, [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]. I highly recommend reading the poem; it really works for Will and Alicia, and you'll see some themes from it popping up throughout the story.

Secondly, it is also inspired by two Matt Nathanson songs. I won't reveal what Part II's song is, but Part I's is "Bulletproof Weeks." I also recommend listening to this-it will be sad, and you will probably cry, but themes from that song will pop up in here, as well.

Okay, enough of me talking. Hope you enjoy this! It will be sad, at least for a little while. I'm sorry about that. I promise I will make it up to you. A special shout-out to **MayAnderson19**, who listened to me babble last night as I re-watched those sad, sad episodes.

* * *

"Will's been shot."

When Kalinda's words reach Alicia's ears, her blood runs cold.

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

It's like this mantra her brain can't stop repeating over and over and over.

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

In this moment, there are only two realities: either Will dies, or Will lives.

Before Kalinda speaks again, Alicia finds herself sinking deep into the first reality.

The one where William Paul Gardner dies.

* * *

_what happened to bulletproof weeks in your arms?  
_

It's 3:27 in the morning, and Alicia Florrick is wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

Every time the sirens start wailing in the distance, she is immediately and painfully awoken from sleep, her heart racing.

_Sirens. Sirens._

Ambulances and fire trucks, on their way to save someone's life.

Except they didn't save Will's.

She's never been a religious person, but ever since he died, she finds herself sending up little prayers. Nothing major, really, but when she hears those sirens, she prays they get there fast enough to save that person's life.

Because they didn't save Will's, and she figures the least God (or whatever seems to be controlling things up there) can do is let another person live.

In these nights when she lies awake, she relives the moment over and over, or at least what she imagines the moment was like, based on Finn and Kalinda's descriptions. She can picture him, covered in blood, scared, and cold.

So, so cold.

She tries not to think about it. She tries not to hear gunshots in her mind, or picture Jeffrey, or think about the shattered glass and smeared blood on the courtroom floor.

But it's the only thing she can think about, because they didn't save Will's life.

She hears more sirens and sends up another tiny prayer.

On these nights, she eventually falls back into a fitful, nightmare-filled sleep. Nightmares where she's running to him, as fast as she can, but it's never fast enough. He always dies before she reaches him, and all she's left with is his cold, lifeless body, covered in blood.

Alicia always wakes up the next morning drenched in sweat and remorse.

_It should have been me in that courtroom. I should have been the one who died._

* * *

It's after 10am and she's still in bed. She's not really sure what day of the week it is, but she assumes it's the weekend because Zach and Grace aren't in school. She can hear their muted voices in the kitchen, talking quietly, trying not to wake her.

The doorbell rings, and she rolls over onto her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Mom?" Grace knocks lightly and pushes open the door just enough to stick her head in the room.

Alicia wants to tell whoever is at the door to go the hell away, but then Grace tells her who it is.

She sits up in bed, trying to wipe the dried tears and sorrow off her face. "She can come in."

Grace leaves and Aubrey enters, carrying a tattered cardboard box. Seeing Will's sister is enough to restart the tears Alicia fought so hard to keep at bay.

Aubrey sets the box on the floor before sitting next to Alicia on the bed and pulling her close.

"I'm sorry," Alicia says, wiping the tears away with her fingers. "I should be consoling you, not the other way around."

Aubrey smiled sadly and took Alicia's hand in hers. "You loved my brother, didn't you?"

Alicia nods, silently, pressing her lips together in an effort not to cry.

"Then you have every right to grieve alongside me."

The women sat in silence for a few moments before Aubrey reached for the box. "There are some things in here we wanted you to have," she explained, carefully unfolding the flaps and handing her the item on top.

A well-loved gray t-shirt with the Georgetown emblem printed across the front was the first thing removed from the box. Alicia held it in her hands, delicately, as if she was going to break it by touching it.

She put it up to her face and inhaled. It didn't just smell like Will.

It smelled like home.

Several tears fell from Alicia's cheeks onto the t-shirt, and Aubrey rubbed small circles on her back.

Next, she pulled out a few well-worn legal books and passed them to Alicia, who opened the covers and ran her fingers over the pages, over his familiar scrawl in the margins, over the passages he had highlighted, over the corners he had dog-eared. It struck her in this moment that he would never read or touch these books again, in those late nights at home or at the office, poring over the words on the pages, trying to find the one thing that would prove him right and help his client win.

Several tears fell from her cheeks onto the books before she set them aside.

And then the third thing. A baseball.

* * *

_"Alicia! Leesh!" Will was running to catch up._

_She turned around, hugging a stack of library books close to her chest. "Hey Will!" she said brightly, smiling to see her friend behind her. She stopped walking and waited for him to reach her._

_"Are you coming to the game tonight? I'm pitching!" he added, proudly._

_"Of course! I wouldn't miss it, Will. I just have to go drop these books off at my apartment and change."_

_"Let me walk you," Will offered, and took the stack of books from her arms._

_He pitched five scoreless innings before the coach relieved him from pitching duty. In the bottom of the seventh inning, he hit a solo homer to right field, scoring the game's only run. As he rounded third and headed home, he looked for Alicia in the stands. She sat on the first base side, wearing one of his baseball caps and munching on popcorn. She was jumping up and down, clapping and cheering, popcorn spilled all over her seat. His heart soared._

_At the end of the game, he ran out of the dugout and up into the stands, carrying a baseball with him. "It's my home run ball!" he told her joyfully, pointing to where he'd scribbled the date with a blue pen. "And I want you to have it."_

_"But it's yours!"_

_"It's just as much yours as it is mine," Will said, putting the baseball in her palm and closing her fingers around it. "Thanks for always supporting me."_

_Alicia wrapped her arms around Will and hugged him tight._

_On graduation weekend, as he helped her pack up her things, she took the baseball from the top of her dresser. "I want you to take this back," she told him. "Now, hang on, don't get mad-" she smiled. "I want you to keep it to remind yourself that I was always your biggest fan. You're gonna do big things out there, Will, and I want you to remember that even if I'm four states away."_

_She placed the baseball in his palm and closed his fingers around it as he had done for her two years ago._

_"My biggest fan," he repeated, smiling, as he pulled her in for a hug._

* * *

Alicia snapped back into reality. She turned the ball over and ran her thumb across those blue numbers. 3-26-93. An entire lifetime ago.

She felt herself fall sideways into Aubrey's arms as she sobbed uncontrollably.

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

_Will is dead._


	2. Part I: Sunday Mornings

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your kind words and reviews. It makes me so happy to know that you are enjoying what I'm writing. This story is helping the healing process for me, tremendously, and I hope it helps you, too.

**Disclaimer:** Will and Alicia and any other recognizable characters don't belong to me-I'm just borrowing them for the purposes of making all right with the world. :) The lyrics below also don't belong to me-they're from Matt Nathanson's "Bulletproof Weeks."

* * *

After Aubrey leaves, Alicia splashes her face with water and makes her way to the kitchen, where Zach and Grace are sitting, drinking orange juice.

"Hey mom," Zach says, offering her a smile. "Grace and I walked down to the coffee shop and got bagels. Want one?"

She wants to say no; the seemingly permanent pit in her stomach takes up too much space to allow for food. But she knows her smart, loving, wise-beyond-their-years children are worried about her, and if she doesn't eat anything, they'll worry more. So she reaches in the bag for an everything bagel and asks Grace to pass the cream cheese.

* * *

_we'd open your window __and stay in your bed_

_all day, __'till the street lights came on_

_Will crawled back into bed and nuzzled her face, fingering the ends of her hair between his thumb and index finger. Alicia stirred, taking in a deep breath before she opened her eyes to the Sunday morning sunlight._

_"Hey there, beautiful," Will said, and Alicia rolled over, offering him a slow, sleepy kiss._

_"Hey there," she replied, smiling. "I smell coffee."_

_"Getting right to the point, huh?" He smiled back. "I brewed some coffee before I went to get bagels from that place nearby you wanted to check out."_

_"All that before 8am? You could've woken me up," Alicia added. Will pressed a soft kiss to her lips._

_"No way. You don't sleep enough. It was the least I could do after your hellish week in court."_

_Alicia pulled off the sheet covering her body, which was clad only in a pair of black lace panties and one of Will's white t-shirts. He reached over and ran his fingers along the edges of her body, against the soft skin of her torso._

_"I wish I could wake up like this every day," she whispered, looking up at him, a sadness in her eyes he couldn't quite place._

_They were only offered this opportunity on the weekends, when Zach and Grace were staying at their dad's. Come Sunday evening, she would be thrust back into the reality of early mornings, an empty bed, and a husband who had betrayed her and taken advantage of her loyalty._

_"I do too," he said, running his thumb across her cheek. She covered his hand with hers and offered him a weak smile._

_Alicia knew in that moment this couldn't last forever._

_Her heartache was palpable; Will knew what she was thinking. She was thinking about everyone and everything but herself._

_"Let's not think about this right now," he said, jumping out of bed. He scooped her up in his arms and she shrieked with laughter as he carried her to the kitchen. Alicia sat on a barstool and watched Will move around the kitchen, admiring the way the track pants hugged his legs in all the right places, the way his hair was still a little tousled from sleep, the way he hummed the song stuck in his head as he poured them mugs of coffee._

_Will was taking care of her in a way Peter never had-wanting to make her happy. Buying her bagels from that place she'd wanted to try and remembering she'd pointed it out on one of their walks through his neighborhood. Storing the brand of coffee creamer she liked in his fridge. Wanting her to stop thinking about the what-ifs and the why-nots and live in the moment. This moment, specifically, where they could be together and forget about the rest of the world and the reasons why it couldn't last._

_He sliced an everything bagel for her, knowing it was her favorite. She opened the cream cheese and picked up a knife from the counter, watching him mimic her movements from the other side of the counter. She stuck her finger into the tub of cream cheese and offered it to him with a sultry smile. Will licked it off her finger and raised his eyebrows._

_"Finish your bagel, then we'll talk," Alicia said, laughing as he tried to stuff his face with an entire bagel._

* * *

"Mom?" It's Grace's voice that snaps her back into reality this time. "Are you okay?"

Alicia hadn't realized there were tears streaming down her cheeks. She sets the half-eaten bagel on the plate and pushes it away.

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

_Will is dead._


	3. Part I: A World Without Will

**A/N: **Hi all! Your reviews and comments have been so kind and encouraging. Thanks again to all who are reading and leaving reviews-it inspires me more than you know!

Here's the next chapter. I know it keeps getting sadder and sadder. I promise it won't go on like this forever!

* * *

_It's Monday. It's been almost a week. I need to go back to work._

Alicia reaches for her phone on the nightstand and looks at the number of unread e-mails, texts, missed calls, voicemails. She sighs, deeply, feeling her breath come to rest somewhere near her heavy, heavy heart.

_It's been almost a week._

_Almost a week since what, exactly?_

_Since my best friend was shot?_

_Since the person I should have shared my life with died?_

_Since I lost my chance to tell him how wrong I was for ever pushing him away?_

She dials Cary to tell him she'll be in the office today; he sounds surprised, but relieved. Being down a managing partner isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world.

The kitchen seems so far away, and the idea of drinking coffee makes Alicia's stomach turn, but she walks out there anyway, where Grace and Zach are once again sitting-this time, silent and a little bleary-eyed. It's definitely Monday.

She kisses them both on the tops of their heads and asks if they want anything for breakfast. They shrug, so she passes them apples and granola bars, insisting they eat _something_. Grace pours milk for her and her brother, and they drink it quickly before grabbing their portable breakfasts, hugging Alicia, and heading off to school.

This is the first time she's been one-hundred percent alone since _that_ day.

* * *

Alicia stares at the coffee pot and opens the cabinet above, touching the paper bag of coffee beans with her fingertips. She starts to pick it up and sets it back down; even the smell of coffee reminds her of him.

Of late nights at Georgetown, of early mornings at Lockhart-Gardner.

Of lazy Sunday mornings and sleepy kisses, of the indecorous thing that was their affair.

Of Will's harsh, unforgiving fury, of that elevator ride downstairs, of the way her mouth tasted after she vomited in a parking deck trash can-of salty tears, acidic black coffee, of regret.

Of bad timing, of missed chances, of her own miserable foolishness.

So she puts water on to boil for tea and opens the fridge, staring numbly into it, thinking she has to force herself to eat something. She sees the cold pizza from last night's dinner in the front and shrugs, thinking it's not going to be a breakfast of champions, but it's there, and it's food, and it's fine.

The late March sunlight is streaming through the kitchen window, and Alicia wonders if it's going to be any warmer outside today. Late March weather doesn't seem to know what to do with itself-it can't exactly let go of winter yet, even though it knows it's time for spring. She smiles, sadly, thinking that she feels oddly similar in this moment.

Alicia has no idea what to do with herself, because she can't exactly let go of Will yet, even though she knows she'll have to, eventually, someday.

But not yet. Not today.

_And probably not tomorrow or the day after that, either._

The tea kettle whistles as she finishes off a slice of cold pizza, so she wipes her hands and pours the hot water over a tea bag. She decides to let it steep while she showers.

* * *

If she's not careful, the heartache can take over in a matter of seconds.

Alicia realizes this as she stands under the hot water, bottle of shampoo in her hand. It smells like raspberries. Will used to tell her that her hair smelled like raspberries.

She squeezes some into her hand and lathers her hair, trying to wash away the desolation that has overtaken every fiber of her being in the last week. She's been through some pretty terrible things in her life, but nothing quite like this. She's been strong and resilient so many times in her life, but not right now.

Not without Will. Not without her friend.

Her tears mix with the water falling from the shower as she thinks about the last time she saw him. The second-to-last time he said her name out loud.

_He said it and put his hand on the wall, almost as if to steady himself. He'd barely said her name out loud in weeks._

_He thanked her. She smiled. The first time she'd truly smiled at him-or even the thought of him-in weeks._

_"Hey, we might have our differences, but you're the better lawyer."_

_And there it was. A genuine smile from Will._

_"I am, aren't I?"_

_"And the more humble!"_

_They both chuckled. They were smiling as he watched her walk away._

It was starting to feel like all the bad things that had happened between them hadn't happened-or, at the very least, that they were on the mend. It was starting to feel like the friendship that had against all odds sustained fifteen years of everything was alive and real again. They were teasing each other, from a place of camaraderie, of love.

She finds herself sitting on the floor of the shower, knees clutched to her chest, letting the water pour over her. It was unfair, really-they'd just started to rebuild their friendship, and the next day, Will was dead.

Cold, lifeless, ready to be buried in the ground _dead_.

Alicia thinks it would be okay if the shower drowned her right now, because she can't imagine possibly feeling any more alone than she does in this moment.

* * *

But instead, she stands up, rinses out her hair, and turns the water off. She dries and wraps her hair in a towel before standing in front of her closet, an array of suits before her. She instinctively reaches for the red jacket; it's her favorite color.

It's also the color in which Will liked her best; he always called it "her" color.

It's also the color of the blood that recently covered his cold, lifeless body.

The color of the blood she sees in her mind every night, whether she's lying awake or fighting through another nightmare.

She draws her hand back slowly, feeling unnerved. She's not sure if she'll ever be able to wear that jacket again.

And as she looks around the closet, she sees a lot of red things-red dresses, red scarves, red shoes. She grabs the hangers and shoves the dresses and jackets into the back of her closet, behind things she hasn't worn in years, and throws everything else into an empty box, which she unceremoniously shoves onto a shelf above her head.

She surveys the clothing in front of her and all she sees are blacks, grays, blues, purples. She nods, affirming in her mind that this feels right.

Alicia dries her hair and dresses in black from head to toe. She swipes on foundation and eyeshadow and lipstick, snaps a lid on the travel mug for her tea, picks up her keys, and walks out the door.

One foot in front of the other, her heels clicking methodically against the tile floor of the hallway.

She stares at the elevator, willing herself to press the "down" button, willing herself to go into the outside world.

Into a world without Will.

_It's been almost a week._

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

_Will is dead._


	4. Part I: Birthdays Past

**A/N:** Hi everyone! Thanks again to all who are reading. I hope you are enjoying the story! I'd love to hear your reviews :)

This is the second-to-last chapter in Part I, but don't worry, a Part II will follow shortly after.

Happy weekend!

* * *

**Part I: Birthdays Past**

"Zach, can you get the movie started?" Alicia calls to her son from the kitchen. She's rooting around in the fridge for a bottle of chocolate syrup she _knows_ is in there, and as she reaches to the far back of the middle shelf, behind those things like grape jelly that keep forever in the fridge, her fingers touch a smooth glass bottle. As she leans in further to get a hold on it, her brow furrows; she can't imagine what it could possibly-

"It's ready, mom!" Grace calls. "Did you find the syrup?"

"Uh-no-not yet, honey," Alicia answers distractedly as she stares at the blue bottle in her hand. It's a bottle of Riesling, the exact kind of Riesling she and Will drank together on their first night in Georgetown.

And then she remembers.

* * *

_Veronica, Grace, and Zach had baked her a cake. It certainly wasn't going to win any awards for presentation, but it had three different kinds of chocolate in it, which was all that mattered. Alicia had bought herself an expensive bottle of red wine, and they sat together on the couch and watched a movie of Alicia's choosing. It was a quiet birthday, but that was more than okay-she could use some normal, quiet days in her life._

_It was late, and Veronica had gone home, the kids to bed. Alicia sipped wine on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels._

_Tap, tap. A knock on the door._

_It was after 10pm, which significantly narrowed the pool of people who might be knocking at the door. She hoped to God it wasn't Peter there; he was the last person she had any interest in seeing on her normal, quiet birthday._

_She wrapped the cardigan around her, set her wine glass in the kitchen, and peeked through the peephole. Surprised at who was on the other side, she unlocked and opened the door._

_Will stood there, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding up a shiny gift bag. "Happy birthday."_

_"Will!" she exclaimed, ushering him inside. "What did-you didn't have to get me anything." She was protesting; she didn't dislike attention, especially not from Will, but she certainly wasn't expecting it._

_"I know," he replied, smiling as he set the gift bag on the counter. "But you're my friend, and it's your birthday, and I wanted to get you something. I hope it's okay that I came over," he added quickly. "I know it's Saturday, and..."_

_Alicia cut him off, smiling. "I'm glad you're here. Want some wine?"_

_"Sure. I can get it," he offered as she held up the bottle. He went straight for the wine glasses in the cabinet. She had almost forgotten that he used to come over on the weekends and had learned where she kept things in the kitchen. Will filled his glass halfway, then took a seat on the stool. "Open it!"_

_He sounded like a little kid on Christmas._

_She dug into the bag, past the tape and tissue paper, and pulled out a shiny blue glass bottle. "Oh my god," she said quietly. "It's-is it really?"_

_"Yeah," he said, smiling. "The first wine we ever drank together."_

_"I can't believe you found this! I can't believe they still make it," Alicia commented, laughing._

_"It's pretty damn delicious," Will defended. "I had to try it out before I decided it was a present worthy of Alicia Florrick."_

_She reached over and squeezed his hand. "This was really thoughtful. Thank you."_

_"It's nothing," he said, but she shook her head._

_"It is. It's really thoughtful."_

_Alicia considered for a moment the last thoughtful gift Peter had gotten her, but couldn't remember what it was. She felt a small twinge in her heart, wondering what a lifetime of birthdays would have looked like had she been with Will._

_"I'm going to save it," she declared, putting it in the back of the fridge. "I'm going to save it so that we can drink it together on my next birthday."_

_"You know, I can get more," Will reminded her, laughing. "That's not the only bottle in the world."_

_"No, but it's special, and I'm going to save it," she repeated._

_They talked about work until both their glasses and the bottle were empty of red wine._

* * *

"Mom?" Grace was behind her now. "I think the chocolate syrup is in the door."

"Oh-yeah. It's right there," Alicia says, noticing it tucked next to the bottles of dressing. "The ice cream is on the counter-can you grab spoons and take the bowls to the living room? I'll be there in a minute."

Grace does as Alicia has asked, and Alicia turns the bottle over in her hand, trying desperately to blink back the tears.

Her birthday is in two weeks, and suddenly it hits her like a brick to the chest.

Will won't be here to drink it with her.

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

_Will is dead._


	5. Part I: September

**A/N:** Hi all! Fair warning-this is the chapter that made me cry. I cried when I thought of the idea, cried while I wrote it, cried when I read it over. It's sad. But good. Takes place at what would be the beginning of Season 6.

This is the end of Part I-Part II will hopefully be up over the weekend or early next week. Thanks again for all the reads and reviews so far!

**Disclaimer:** Will and Alicia don't belong to me, and neither do the lyrics below. They're from Matt Nathanson's "Bulletproof Weeks." If you haven't yet listened to the song, I recommend doing so before or while reading this chapter.

* * *

**Part I: September**

_somewhere in between_

_the beginning and the end_

_September took the tourists_

_and settled in for good_

It's September 1st.

Alicia wakes at 5:30 in the morning, roughly 45 minutes before the sun will rise over Chicago. She trades her usual pristine suit for her favorite pair of jeans, his Georgetown t-shirt, and a lightweight zip-up hoodie. She brushes her hair and arranges it into a ponytail high on her head before pulling an Orioles cap over it.

She leaves Grace a note on the counter, picks up her keys from the bowl near the door, and rides the elevator downstairs.

She drives on auto-pilot to the Starbucks nearest her apartment and orders two grande pumpkin spice lattes. The barista is thrilled; it's the first day for PSLs, and Alicia is the first to order one. When the drinks are piping hot and ready, she sticks two green plastic stoppers in the cups and takes them out to her car.

The grayish-blue sky grows lighter in anticipation of the rising sun, and Alicia drives for maybe twenty minutes before she reaches her destination. She hasn't been here since March, but she remembers the way without needing directions.

It's 6:16, and the sun is finally peeking through the tall green trees surrounding her.

She parks and checks the small slip of paper sitting on the passenger seat that reminds her where to go. She picks up the lattes, shuts the car door with her foot, and begins the walk along the foot-paved dirt path. It's not long before she reaches her destination.

Alicia sets one of the lattes in the dewy grass next to the marble marker, then sits cross-legged in front of it with her own. She removes the plastic stopper and inhales the scents of cinnamon and nutmeg rising with the steam from her cup. As she takes a sip, the first tears of the day roll down her pale cheeks, uncovered by makeup.

"Hey," she begins, and chuckles uncertainly. "I brought you a pumpkin spice latte."

She sighs, the breath in her chest unsteady, before continuing.

"I never thought I'd be one of these people, sitting in front of a grave and talking to a person who's not really here, but here I am. I guess there are a lot of things I never thought I'd do until you died and I didn't know what to do," Alicia adds. "So here I am, Will. Talking to you."

She swirls the orange liquid around in her cup before taking another sip. It's creamy and sweet, and she lets the coffee linger on her tongue before swallowing it. "It's your third favorite day of the year," she reminds him. "I never told you, but I started watching baseball in the spring. The season started not too long after you left, and...I just thought it was the right thing to do. I don't know if you'd be more proud of me for watching it or more mad at me for waiting until you died to do it."

Alicia sniffles, more tears falling down her face. "I think the Orioles are gonna go to the playoffs this year. The announcers keep saying it's some kind of crazy fluke, that there's no way they should be winning so many games, but there's no doubt in my mind it has everything to do with you."

* * *

_It was September 1st._

_Alicia sat at her desk, cross-legged, wearing a black skirt and a red blouse. She was typing intently on her laptop, preparing for the deposition she had that afternoon. She saw Will out of the corner of her eye as he rounded the corner from the elevators. He was humming an upbeat tune under his breath and carrying two Starbucks cups when he knocked lightly on her door with his left knuckle._

_Alicia finished typing her note, then looked up and smiled. "Good morning!"_

_"It's my third favorite day of the year!" Will replied, and she raised her eyebrows._

_"I brought you something," he added, setting one of the two cups on her desk. Alicia picked it up and turned it around to face her. The letters "PSL" were scrawled on the bottom in black Sharpie._

_"What is this?" she asked, peering into the cup. "It's...orange."_

_Will laughed gently at her puzzled expression. "It's a pumpkin spice latte! Oh, don't tell me you've never had one," he said, his mouth remaining open as she shook her head no. "It's like God said, let me bestow upon mankind the most delicious beverage, and then the pumpkin spice latte was born."_

_Alicia laughed. "Okay," she said slowly. "I'll try it."_

_"Cheers!" Will said, knocking his cup with hers. She took a sip and he watched as her expression changed from one of puzzlement to contentment._

_"This is insanely delicious. Thank you," she said, raising her cup in his direction._

_"No problem. Good luck with your depo today."_

_As he turned to leave, Alicia stopped him. "Wait. You said it's your third favorite day...what are the other two?"_

_"Opening Day and Selection Sunday," he said, smiling from her doorway._

_"Of course. I should have known." Alicia grinned. "This is really, really good, Will. Next round is on me."_

_Will laughed-that sweet, happy laugh she had heard many times throughout their friendship. "I have no problem taking you up on that offer."_

* * *

The crunching of leaves nearby snaps Alicia back into reality. Her latte is nearly empty and her cheeks are covered in the remnants of tears she hadn't wiped away in the midst of her reverie.

"I hope you liked the coffee," she says as she stands up and brushes the dirt off her jeans. "I'll be back in a few weeks when the Orioles make it to the playoffs. I promise I'll tell you everything that happens."

Alicia takes the last sip of her latte, then bends down and presses her lips to the cold marble.

"I miss you."

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

_Will is dead._


	6. Part II: Running

**A/N:** Hi everyone! I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for your reads, reviews, follows, and favorites. It means the world to me that you're enjoying what I'm writing enough to keep up with it. I am really enjoying working on this story as well as my others, and it's inspiring to hear from all of you, so thanks again! :)

Part II's song is another Matt Nathanson tune, "All We Are." I highly recommend you check it out before/while reading this part. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Neither the characters nor the song lyrics quoted below belong to me.

* * *

**Part II: Running**

"Will's been shot."

When Kalinda's words reach Alicia's ears, her blood runs cold.

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

It's like this mantra her brain can't stop repeating over and over and over.

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

In this moment, there are only two realities: either Will dies, or Will lives.

Before Kalinda speaks again, Alicia finds herself hopeful, so very hopeful, for the second reality.

The one where William Paul Gardner lives.

* * *

_I tasted, tasted love so sweet-but all of it was lost on me._

Alicia Florrick is running. Running faster than she's ever run before.

Running faster than she used to twenty years ago alongside Will on the sidewalks of Georgetown. Running faster than she used to when he'd tease her about not being able to keep up and she'd race him to the end of the street.

It doesn't seem physically possible that she can run faster now than she did at twenty-three, but it must be the adrenaline of thinking her best friend might _die_ without knowing how much she loves him and how _sorry_ she is for all the pain and hurt of the past six months that allows her to run faster than she's ever run in her forty-two years of living.

As soon as she reached her car, she practically dove into the backseat to grab the running shoes on the floor of the driver's side. She quickly discarded her stilettos and sloppily laced up the shoes, not caring how ridiculous it looked to be wearing a pair of neon Nikes with a fancy designer dress. (This is not something about which Alicia really gives a damn right now.)

Kalinda told her the hospital where they'd taken him was only blocks away from her luncheon, and Alicia was pretty sure she could get there a lot faster if she ran.

_Running is productive_, she thinks as she runs down Taylor Street, _much better than driving_. She runs past the Starbucks she sometimes grabs coffee from on her way to court. Runs past a little sidewalk café where she and Will had lunch after she won her first case at Lockhart/Gardner. Runs past people living their everyday lives, doing their everyday things, with no knowledge of who the hell Will Gardner is or why this crazy woman in a black dress is running for her life (well, really, for _his life_). She's the First Lady of Illinois, but she doubts she's recognizable, a tearful, sweaty mess—and even if someone does recognize her, she doesn't care.

Will is her friend, and Will might _die_.

Alicia eventually has to stop at a light and wait for the crosswalk signal, which allows her a moment to catch her breath. Except she can't catch her breath. She's sobbing, choking on air. Will is so close, and yet she can't get to him, can't see him, can't know if he's all right. And there's still a distinct possibility he might not be all right. He could be lying on a gurney right now, cold and _dead_, and she can't get to him, can't—

The crosswalk light turns to white and she tears across that street, down the next block, through as many yellow lights and blinking red hands as she can so she doesn't have to stop until she reaches him.

The automatic doors to the Emergency Room slide open, and Alicia looks around, frantically. Kalinda sees her first and rushes over, pulling Alicia into the corridor, away from the nurses, away from the prying eyes of everyone else.

"How…?" This is the only word Alicia can get out. Her throat is closing up on her, dry from the blocks she ran with no water. But the one word is good enough. Kalinda knows what she means.

"We don't know," she answers softly. "One of the nurses thinks they took him up to surgery, but it all happened so fast nothing's been entered in the system or even written on a chart yet. I was just about to go up there and find out what the hell is going on." Kalinda looks at Alicia. "You okay?"

"Not if he's not," Alicia whispers, closing her eyes as tears squeeze out from the corners beneath her eyelids.

"You look like hell," Kalinda tells her, offering her a sympathetic smile. "Maybe see if you can find a hairbrush and fix your raccoon eyes. I'm pretty sure Will's not gonna want to wake up to that face."

Alicia laughs, just a little, through her tears. "Thanks."

"I'm gonna go. I'll come back when I find out something."

Just like that, Kalinda disappears. Alicia walks a few steps toward the drinking fountain and gulps down some cold water. The bathroom isn't far, either, so she slips inside, running her fingers through her hair and using a wet paper towel to wipe the smudged mascara off her cheeks. She doesn't look great, but certainly better than before. Her makeup, her lipstick, everything is back in the car. The only things with her are her keys and her phone, so she has no choice but to walk back to the waiting room and await the news from Kalinda.

She sees Diane as soon as she rounds the corner, and Diane wraps Alicia in her arms, almost mother-like. "Alicia," she says hoarsely. "I'm…"

Alicia nods into her shoulder. "I know."

They pull apart, and Diane offers her a tissue from her purse. "I was down the hall and I heard the gunshots. I didn't know what was going on, but I just thought something might've happened to Will—and then I saw Kalinda in the hall, and she found him." She pauses. "The ASA pulled him under the table and tried to keep him safe, put pressure on his shoulder, but Kalinda said it looked like Will lost a lot of blood, and now we don't know where he is…" she trails off. "You should sit down. Kalinda said you ran all the way here?"

Nodding, Alicia lifts up her foot to show Diane her neon sneakers. "I can't sit down. I can't even breathe, Diane," she says, trying to steady her heartbeat. "Will…he…"

She reaches for Alicia's hand. "He loves you, Alicia."

"I don't deserve it," she replied, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. "He offered me everything, the _world_, and I turned my back on him because I was too scared to be _happy_. How stupid is that?"

Diane shook her head. "It's not stupid."

"I, just…I saw him yesterday, and we were smiling, and it's like everything in the world was good again."

Diane nods; she hasn't released Alicia's hand, so she squeezes it before letting go. "Everything in the world will keep being good," she affirms.

They stand in silence, clenching tissues in their fists for what seems like hours, but it's less than five minutes before Kalinda comes running down the hall to tell them the news.

"He's alive."

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

_Will is alive._


	7. Part II: Alicia

**A/N:** Have I mentioned recently that you all are the best? Because truly, you are. You have offered such kind words about my work and I am so happy to be sharing it with people who are enjoying reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Here's the next installment-a bit of Will's perspective.

This, in my humble opinion, is how 5.15 should have ended...

* * *

**Part II: Alicia**

Will can hear, faintly, somewhere in the distance, the sound of the L train. It screeches as it rolls down the tracks, winding through the streets of Chicago. It's a sound he's heard many times over the past twenty or so years he's lived in this city, but he can't quite figure out why it sounds so _far away_ this time.

And he hears another sound, sort of like the screeching of the train-a loud, piercing sound-it's like a scream. Or a cry. Or a mixture of both. It's a terrible sound, really, not soothing like the familiar (albeit high-pitched) sound of the L.

He thinks his heart stops for a second when he realizes what the sound is: it's Alicia. And she sounds _hysterical_.

Not hysterical as in he just made her laugh with one of his ridiculous jokes hysterical, but the I-can't-breathe-something-is-terribly wrong kind of hysterical.

_Why is Alicia crying?_

He can't figure this out. He doesn't know what's wrong. He doesn't know why she would be crying, much less screaming.

Then he feels pain radiating from the upper left portion of his chest, somewhere around his shoulder, maybe even close to his throat. It's like someone stabbed-

_I got shot_.

Will thinks his body is going to shatter into a million pieces, he's in so much pain. He's never felt pain like this before; not from any baseball or basketball injury. It's much, much worse than the phantom pain he sometimes felt in his shoulder. This is a pain unlike any other.

_Why the hell did I get shot?_

His brain is attempting to collect the broken and hazy fragments of what happened to him just a few hours ago and fuse them into a complete story. The last thing he remembers is standing at the bench, next to Finn, talking to the judge, his phone hot in his pocket, wondering if they'd be done soon so he could call Alicia back and finish his thought, and then-

Boom. It was like a tiny explosion.

Boom. Another tiny explosion. But this one was closer, this one-

Boom. Another tiny explosion.

_It hit me in the chest._

_But where did it come from?_

Boom. Another tiny explosion.

And then another fragment falls into place: Jeffrey.

_Jeffrey shot me._

_Why the hell did Jeffrey shoot me?_

And then he remembers something else, something that feels vague and fuzzy, about Jeffrey being unhappy in the general pop and getting beat up and Will had suggested solitary might be better and-

_Did he really want to kill me?_

The pain in his upper body is stronger now, rising to the surface. It's enough to make him begin to lose these pieces he's assembled so far. But he fights, he fights to continue putting them together, because at the end of it, there will be answers, right?

_Finn_. _Is Finn okay?_

Will remembers diving for Jeffrey, trying to get the gun away from him, trying to stop him from doing something _completely stupid_, and somehow Finn got to him and pulled him under the table and-

His brain grabs another fragment: _Finn saved me_.

Will remembers the buzzing of the alarm, and some people screaming, and-

_Are those sirens? _

_Is someone going to save me? _

_Am I dying?_

And that was about the time things started to go black. But not entirely. Not quite yet. His vision was blurry, and _dear god_, that pain in his chest...

_Kalinda_.

He'd recognize that jacket anywhere. God, she had looked so scared. And she was calling for the paramedics, and trying to tell him everything was going to be okay-

_Alicia._

That's the only word he tried to choke out. _Alicia, Alicia, Alicia._

_I would rather die than keep living without Alicia_.

That's the last thing he remembers before everything went black.

* * *

_So there are all the pieces_, his brain tells him. _You got shot. Jeffrey shot you. That sound you hear? The one that sounds like the train, but worse? That's Alicia falling apart because she thinks there's a chance she's lost you for good._

_And you're not dead, by the way. You're just kind of asleep._

Oh, there's that pain again, that aching, stabbing, throbbing pain.

_If I got shot, and I'm not dead..._

_Where's Alicia?_

Everything goes hazy again; the pain has reached the surface now, and it hurts too much for him to think about moving even something as small as his eyelids. But then he wonders, what would be there if he opened his eyes? Would she be there? Would Alicia be there? Or did she hate him? Was she too angry to see him, even if he had almost died?

He doesn't know that she's been living in this other reality for a while, the one where he dies and she doesn't know what to do.

So he struggles and fights against this pain that has overtaken his entire existence, and everything starts to get less hazy. Everything gets a little clearer. He can still hear the L train in the distance, but it doesn't sound so far away now. And there's another noise, this one softer, closer, but very noticeable.

It's Alicia, and-

_She's crying. Why is Alicia crying? Am I _really_ alive? Because I remember thinking I would rather die than be without her anymore, and-_

Oh, that pain. That aching, stabbing, throbbing-

_Open your eyes, Gardner. Open your eyes. _

_I think Alicia will be there when you open them._

* * *

_I've been shot. I've been shot. I've been shot._

_I'm alive._


	8. Part II: Awake

**A/N: **Hi everyone! Thank you, as always, for your reads, reviews, and follows. I am so glad that you are enjoying the world I've created here. :) You'll notice some references to Part I in this chapter, which are completely intentional in tying these two "realities" together.

I'm thinking this will be the second-to-last installment of this story; there are many places I could go with it, but I may save those for other works. Again, thanks for your support-I am immeasurably grateful!

**Disclaimer:** Still just pretending that Will and Alicia belong to me. There is one line of Matt Nathanson's "All We Are" quoted in here near the end, which also doesn't belong to me.

* * *

**Part II: Awake**

Alicia can feel her heart stop beating momentarily. It's been pounding in her chest and in her ears ever since she ran all the way here.

But when Kalinda says "He's alive," her heart just _stops_.

She's going to get her chance to make it right, because _Will is alive_.

Alicia and Diane look at Kalinda expectedly, waiting for her to continue.

"I don't know much more than that," she adds. "They said he was just getting out of surgery. He's not awake yet, and won't be for a while. But he's alive."

Diane feels Alicia reach for her hand and grip it tightly in an effort to steady herself. She squeezes Alicia's hand back, trying to offer her some comfort. Despite everything they've been through-Alicia's departure, Will's anger, Diane's frustrations-Diane knows it's going to be different now. She _wants_ it to be. She wants to be Alicia's friend again, and she wants Alicia to be with Will.

It's the only way the world can keep spinning; it's the only way life makes sense.

They follow Kalinda up to the sixth floor, where the Medical/Surgical ICU is located. It's quiet up here, almost eerily so; Alicia feels a wave of nausea wash over her, knowing it's possible that some of the people in these rooms might never recover.

Will is one of those people.

Kalinda gets a nurse to come over; she refers them to Will's surgeon, who is nearby filling out a chart. He leads them to the chairs outside Will's room where they can sit while he talks. Diane and Alicia sit; Kalinda stands.

"This was not a trivial gunshot wound," he says, and Alicia feels her throat begin to thicken. She's so close to spiraling back into that other reality, the one where Will _did_ die, and she's teetering on the edge right now, thinking about how he _could have died_, and it's all just too much. She tries to choke back a sob, but it doesn't work. She sounds _hysterical_.

"It's okay," the doctor continues, reaching out to cover Alicia's hand with his. "He's going to be fine."

Alicia nods as she sniffles.

"He lost a lot of blood, but we were able to give him several units. The x-rays indicated that one bullet had passed through and another was still embedded in his chest, but we were able to remove it in surgery. It came very close to his throat, but thankfully missed it, otherwise we'd have a much larger problem on our hands."

Alicia tries to choke back another sob; it barely works this time. All these things he's saying, about how Will _could_ have died or _might_ have died or maybe _should_ have died or how close the bullet was to _killing_ him-she can't take it.

"But it didn't," the doctor reminds them, and she nods again. "He's very lucky. The man who was with him not only took a bullet for your friend, but he was also able to put a significant amount of pressure on his wound that kept him from losing too much blood. We just brought him up from recovery, which means he's still pretty heavily sedated right now. So it may take a few hours for him to wake up, and when he does, he'll be in a lot of pain. We need to monitor him for infection, keep an eye on his vital signs, and make sure his wounds are healing properly, but he should be able to go home within a couple of days if all goes well. He'll need some physical therapy for his shoulder, I imagine, but he'll make a full recovery."

Diane rubs her hand up and down Alicia's back as she cries. "Thank you," Alicia whispers to the doctor. "Thank you for saving him."

He nods. "You can go in and see him now. Don't worry too much about the restricted visiting hours. I'll let the nurses know you can stay as long as you'd like."

Alicia gestures for Diane and Kalinda to enter the room first. She hangs back near the doorway, not wanting to get too close just yet.

The two women talk with Will for a few moments, then both place a kiss on his forehead. They turn to look at Alicia, who still hasn't entered the room yet.

"Do you want some time alone?" Diane asks. All Alicia can do is nod.

"We'll go get some coffee," Kalinda says. "Want some?"

"Yes, please," she whispers.

Diane offers her an encouraging smile. "Call us if he wakes up. We won't be far."

* * *

Alicia finally enters the room and drags a chair next to the bed, placing her phone and keys on the small nightstand. She looks at Will for the first time since coming into the room. His cheeks are a little pale, with less color than usual, but aside from that, he looks peaceful, like he's sleeping.

It's a sight ever so familiar to her; a sight she used to love waking up to when she'd rise before he did. She loved how sweet and serene he would always look; his face relaxed, not stressed or worried or angry. She loved being able to kiss him and see the smile appear on his lips before he even opened his eyes for the day.

He looks just that way now.

She reaches over and touches the smooth skin of his hand. It's warmer than she expected it to be, and she traces it with her index finger, re-familiarizing herself with the way it feels. It's been so long-too long-since she touched Will, much less held his hand. The understanding occurs to her that-if she wants to and if he'll have her-she can do this every day for the rest of her life.

All Alicia can think about is how she hopes he won't push her away.

"Hey," she begins, and chuckles uncertainly. "I don't think you can hear me yet, but I'm going to talk to you anyway."

She sighs, the breath in her chest unsteady, before continuing.

"There's this other world I lived in for a while, this world where you died and I didn't know what to do. All I know now is that I am so glad that world isn't my reality. I am so glad that you're okay, and you're going to be okay, and _we're_ going to be okay." She sniffles. "We were so _horrible_ to each other these last few months, and it's all my fault. And when I got that call today-I was sure I'd be living in regret for the rest of my life for never having made it up to you."

Alicia looks down at her feet and smiles a little, thinking for the first time today how ridiculous these shoes look with her dress.

"When Kalinda told me you'd been shot, I just kept thinking to myself that these things don't happen to real people. They happen in movies, or in some other world that's so far away from this one. People you know don't just get shot in a courtroom, and people you know don't just..._die_," she says. "And especially not you. Bad things don't happen to good people like you, Will. There was this part of me that held on tightly to that, because I knew if anyone was going to survive something like this, it _would_ be you. And I'm planning on spending every day of the rest of my life showing you how grateful I am that you did."

She stops there; she's said enough.

* * *

Kalinda and Diane bring her coffee and sit with her for a little while, silently. They watch the sun start to set over Chicago, and they both know they need to go back to the firm to brief the partners before Diane talks to clients.

"Call me the second he wakes up," Diane requests.

"Absolutely," Alicia responds. "Diane...thank you..." she trails off. "I can't..."

"I know," Diane says, and wraps Alicia in her arms again. "Everything is going to be fine."

Kalinda leaves with a small smile; their relationship still isn't in quite the right place to be hugging each other, but they both know what has happened today is a step on the road to repairing their friendship.

After they leave, Alicia sits next to his bedside and cries. Cries for everything that _could _have been_ or might _have been_ or _maybe_ should_ have been with them. There was Georgetown, and there was Peter, and then there was Baltimore for him and Chicago for her, and there was Peter's horrible scandal, and there was their entrance back into each other's lives, and there was their affair, and there was her and Cary and leaving, and then there was _this_.

Her opportunity to make up for all the chances they missed, for all the wrong decisions they made, and for all the bad timing they encountered along the way.

Alicia hates that it took Will's near-death to bring her to this point, right here, fully ready and willing to devote her life to this man who looks so peaceful sleeping in the bed beside her, surrounded by the late-afternoon glow of a Chicago sunset.

This is the man who has always loved her, and who will always love her; it's time for her to stop being scared and admit to the world that she feels the same way.

If nothing else, this is it. This is their good timing.

* * *

A nurse brings her a blanket and a pillow about an hour later. She asks if Alicia wants any dinner, and Alicia shakes her head, politely declining.

She stuffs the pillow behind her back and neatly spreads the blanket out over her, scooting closer to his bed so she can rest her head on the mattress near his arm. She knows she'll have a stiff neck later, but it's all she can do to be as close to him as possible.

Alicia lifts his hand gently, just enough that she can slip hers underneath it. She's still surprised at its warmth, perhaps because in that other reality, she lived through night after night of nightmares where he was cold, lifeless, ready to be buried in the ground _dead_.

In this reality, she will still have those nightmares, but he will be there to wake her and reassure her that he's very much _alive_.

* * *

It's morning when Alicia opens her eyes again. Her neck is, as predicted, incredibly stiff. She sits up and stretches it out, leaning on the pillow for support. It's early yet, not even seven. Her phone tells her of many missed calls, most of them Peter. She'd called Grace and Zach last night; Owen had come over to spend the night since Peter had gone back to Springfield.

The nurse comes in to check on them both and insists that Alicia eat something, so she accepts a piece of toast, a hard-boiled egg, and a small cup of weak black coffee.

Alicia thinks suddenly to ask how Finn is doing; the nurse promises to check on him. _The least I can do is thank him_, she thinks.

Will still looks peaceful; she knows he's going to be in a lot of pain when he wakes up, and a part of her wants to delay that for as long as possible. The other part of her just wants to hear his voice and see his smile.

She texts Diane with an update before finally rising from her chair to fully stretch. She walks to the window and looks out over Chicago, now aglow with the early morning light.

_every day is the start of something beautiful, something real._

* * *

Alicia returns to her previous position, resting her head on the mattress next to Will's arm and slipping her hand under his. It seems a little warmer now, and she wonders if that's because her hand is colder or if it _means_ something, like maybe he'll wake up soon.

The tears that have come and gone since yesterday afternoon arrive again. This man beside her almost _died_ yesterday and the idea that it's a new day and he's still _alive_ is beyond Alicia's wildest imagination. People don't get second chances like this. But he did, and they will.

They will, they will, they will.

She dozes in and out of sleep for the next few hours, the exhaustion and overwhelming emotion finally getting the best of her. She sleeps until she feels a movement beside her.

Will's hand is definitely in a different place than it was before.

Alicia sits up straight and grips his hand firmly in her own. She feels his fingers wrap around hers-weakly, but it's definitely movement over which he has control, not her.

She can tell he's fighting, probably fighting against the pain he feels now that he's awake. His face looks less peaceful now; not angry or stressed, just _aware_.

His hand starts to squeeze hers as one eye opens, slowly, painstakingly, than the other.

"Leesh," he croaks out, his throat almost too dry to speak. "You're _here_."

* * *

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

_Will is alive._


	9. Part II: All Is Well

**A/N:** Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay in this update. Life gets in the way of things sometimes. So, I thought this chapter was going to be my last, but Alicia had other plans, it seems. Chapter 10 will be the last installment. :)

Thanks to all of you who have continued on this journey with me. It's not over quite yet.

* * *

_It's Alicia. She's here. She's here and she's smiling. She's smiling, Will. She's happy to see you._

"Hey. _Hey_," Alicia says softly in response, running her thumb over the back of his knuckles. Will offers her a weak smile.

_It's Will. He's here and he's alive and he's smiling. He's smiling, Alicia. He's happy to see you._

"Could you get me some water?" he whispers, and Alicia jumps up to grab the water sitting on the nightstand. She feels his warm hand leave hers and rushes back, wishing she hadn't needed to let go, if only briefly. She unscrews the plastic cap and helps him drink the water before returning to her chair.

"You look like hell," Will teases, and she eyes him, but smiles.

"You're not looking so great yourself," she counters.

"Hey, I've been through a lot in the past day. I bet I look pretty damn good."

She giggles. _That's the Will I know._

He pauses, surveying her: she's in a fancy dress and...sneakers? Running shoes. _Why is she wearing running shoes? And that dress..._

"Alicia, have you been here since yesterday?" he asks slowly.

"I came as soon as Kalinda called," she said, lacing her fingers through his. "I never left this spot. I stayed here, all night, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you..." she pauses. "Diane. I have to call her. She'd be furious if she knew you were awake and I hadn't called her."

Will chuckles. "And some pain medicine might be nice."

"Ohmygod. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't...let me get someone. And call Diane. Then I'll come back."

He reaches for Alicia's hand and stops her as she starts to rush out of the room. "Leesh...I was so scared." She turns back, looking at his face, full of anguish and worry. "I was so scared that I was dying and I was never going to get to tell you...everything."

Alicia kisses Will's forehead and wipes away the tear from his cheek. "I'm here. I'm not leaving. I _promise_."

* * *

The nurse explains to Alicia that the medicine might make him at least a little loopy, at most a little drowsy, but it won't kick in for a little while. She tells her that the surgeon will be up in a few hours to check on Will himself, but that he seems to be doing just fine so far.

Alicia comes back into the room to find Will propped up against a few pillows, looking wide-eyed and awake. His entire face brightens when he sees her.

"Can I go first?" she asks, and he nods.

"My heart stopped when Kalinda told me the news. I mean, I could actually feel it stop beating in my chest, because I was sure she was about to tell me that my best friend was dead and I was never going to get the chance to say I'm sorry." She stops in an attempt to hold back her tears. "When I left, it wasn't...it was never meant to hurt you. And that's stupid, I know, because of course it was going to. You gave me an opportunity when so many doors had been slammed in my face, when my life was falling apart, and the last thing you deserved was for me to act like I didn't appreciate that."

As the tears start to spill down her cheeks, Will reaches over with his right hand to dry them.

"But it was just...so much...too much...and you and me..."

"I know," he interrupts her, an understanding gaze in his eyes. "Owen told me."

"He what?" she asks, bewildered.

"He told me you were scared. And I get that."

Alicia sniffles. "That's no excuse for what I did to you."

"And there are no excuses for what I did to you either, Alicia. I was selfish and immature. I didn't need to treat you like that. I was so terrified of losing you that all I could think of was to lash out at you. It was the same for me: hating you was easier than admitting exactly how I felt about you."

She shakes her head, realizing that for the past few months, they'd been living in the same hell, going through the same hurt and frustration.

And then she knows. She knows it's time.

"I _love you_," Alicia says firmly, and it's Will's turn to look bewildered. "I have loved you every single day since August 23, 1991. And I should have told you that a long time ago. If you had _died_ yesterday, you should never have died not knowing I loved you. And I would have loved you every day after you died, too, because I will never stop _loving you_, Will Gardner."

The tears begin rolling down Will's face. Alicia leans over to kiss them away, and he reaches up with his good arm to touch her face with his hand. "I would have rather _died_ than kept on living without you."

"You don't have to. _I'm here_," she says hoarsely, and that's all he needs.

"I know, Leesh. I love you."

He scoots over on the bed, just enough that Alicia can lie beside him. She puts her head on his chest, somewhere near his heart, and rests her hand there. She's tucked between his right arm and the crook of his shoulder, and she stays there, in the quiet room, the only other sounds his breathing and his heartbeat.

His breathing and his heartbeat.

He's breathing, and his heart is beating, and William Paul Gardner is _alive._

Alicia looks up at Will, whose eyes are still wide open. He looks down and smiles, kissing her on the top of her head. He can feel the pain medicine start to kick in, which gives him a happy, warm-and-fuzzy feeling from his toes all the way to the top of his head, but he knows it's more than the medicine. It's also the fact that the woman he's loved for all these years is here, and she's been here for the past 24 hours, and she's not mad, and he's not mad, and everything is okay.

He's alive, she's alive, they're together.

All is well. All is forgiven.

* * *

They fall asleep like that, and when the surgeon comes in to check on Will, Alicia is sure he's going to reprimand her for being in the bed with him, but he doesn't say a word about it. She returns to her seat as the surgeon examines him, checks and changes the dressing on the wound, asks Will about his pain.

Will shrugs with one shoulder. "It...feels okay," he says. "It could be worse."

The truthfulness of those words rings in Alicia's ears. _It could have been worse. It could have been much worse. You could have died and I could have felt lost for the rest of my life._

"Well, it looks like it's healing fine. We'll probably have you stay here until Friday so we can keep an eye on you, but it looks good so far," he says reassuringly. "You take care of him," he says to Alicia, and she nods, offering him a smile.

"I will. Thank you," she adds, and he smiles back before leaving the room.

Alicia turns to Will, fidgeting with her hands a bit. She runs them over her thighs and knees, smoothing the fabric of the dress beneath her fingers. Will recognizes this habit of hers: she's about to say something important.

He looks at her attentively, offering an encouraging smile. He reaches for her hand, and she stops fidgeting as soon as she feels the warmth of his hand in hers.

"This is a complicated question," she starts. "There are...there are a lot of things that have to happen first, but...I think this question is more important than that," she says, sounding more confident.

Will smiles at her. "Go for it."

"Will you marry me?"

* * *

_Will's been shot. Will's been shot. Will's been shot._

_Will is alive._


	10. Part II: Forever

**A/N:** Well, friends, we've reached the end of this journey. I want to thank each and every one of you who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited throughout the course of this story. It was my first attempt at multichapter writing in _years_, and I couldn't be more grateful for the love and support you offered me and this story. Special shout-outs to MayAnderson19, StrawberrySab, OnlyYouForever, AWPuRpLePoPtArT, and guategal. You five have been with me consistently from the beginning and I can't thank you enough for it. :)

This story was my "fix-it" fic and the first thing I wrote post-5.15. It could theoretically go on forever, because this is my ideal universe for Will and Alicia. But I've chosen to keep this my "fix-it" fic and revisit this universe in other stories. So, even though this chapter might be the end of this particular story, it's definitely not the end of Will and Alicia's story.

I should also note that I still don't own these characters, because if I did, this would have happened on the show and we wouldn't have to live in denial-land. But since I don't, denial-land sounds like a nice place to stay.

Thank you all, again, so very much.

* * *

Some of the longest five seconds of Alicia's life occur right after she asks Will Gardner to marry her, and right before Will responds with seven words she wasn't expecting to hear.

"I have a funny story for you," he says, with an impish grin, and Alicia can't believe he thinks this is an appropriate time for a _freaking story_. She wants to tell him this and force him to answer her damn question, but in true Will Gardner style, he barrels on with this so-called _funny story_. "Pick up your phone, please."

Alicia does as he has asked.

"There should be a voicemail from me. From yesterday."

Alicia's right hand flies up to cover her mouth as she taps her left index finger on the voicemail button and sees "Will Gardner: Mobile: 11:32am."

_These could have been the last words I ever heard from Will._

She tries to choke back her tears, and Will reaches for her. "Hey. _Hey_," he says. "This is a funny story. Not a sad story."

"You could have _died_," she whispers, staring at the phone, refusing to believe this voicemail is real. "You could have died and the last words I heard from you could have been _this_."

"Just listen to it, please," he pleads with her, so she lifts the phone to her ear.

"_Alicia."_ And then there's some shuffling, some mumbled words in the background. "_Hold on, Your Honor. I'll call you back."_

She removes the phone from her ear and stares at Will. "You were going to call me back."

He nods. "I was. As soon as court was over, I was going to call you back. Do you want to know what the voicemail _should_ have said?"

Alicia nods, and Will squeezes her hand.

"Alicia, I'm sorry. I want what we had. I want to be with you, and only you, forever. Call me back, please."

Will is smiling, his eyes glassy with tears, and Alicia is trying to smile through her tears, unable to really comprehend what's happening.

"And do you know what else I wanted to say to you?"

Alicia shakes her head.

"I wanted to ask _you_ if you would marry _me,_" he says, a wide, boyish smile appearing on his face. "But I didn't really think that was the kind of thing you asked someone over a voicemail," he adds, and Alicia buries her face into the bed beside him, letting the white sheet soak up her tears.

Will nudges his fingers beneath her chin and tilts her head up toward him. He's smiling, and she can't help but smile back. "Now do you see why it was a funny story?" he asks.

(She does.)

Alicia laughs, out of nervousness and emotional exhaustion. These two lives, that for twenty-something years have always managed to find a way to intersect, to collide, but never at the right time or place, have arrived at this point, right here, in an ICU room on the sixth floor of the University of Illinois Medical Center. Bad timing, heartache, missed chances, foolish mistakes, all of that-is gone. Forever.

"I love it when you laugh," he whispers, and she stands up so she can kiss him.

Will feels Alicia smile against his lips, and he pulls back just slightly so he can see the look in her eyes.

"The answer to your question is yes, by the way."

"...yes?" she repeats, unable to believe what he's just said.

"Yes. On one condition," he adds, and he sees Alicia's face change from an expression of joy to one of concern. "It's nothing bad."

"Okay..." she says slowly.

"Let me do it right. Let me date you and charm the pants off of you. Let me propose to you, on one knee, with a ring, the whole nine yards, because that's what you deserve, and I want to give you everything."

Alicia exhales and wipes away the tears with the back of her hand. "William Paul Gardner, nothing in the world would make me happier."

"Good," Will says firmly. "Because nothing in the world would make _me_ happier."

She sniffles. "You know, I'm pretty sure no person has ever made me cry so damn much in a 24-hour period."

He smiles. "Well, I plan on spending the rest of my life making sure you smile as much as possible and cry as little as possible, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her.

* * *

A year and a half later-541 days, to be exact-it's September 1st, 2015.

Will wakes at 5:30 in the morning, roughly 45 minutes before the sun will rise over Chicago. He turns his alarm off immediately, not wanting to wake Alicia.

He dresses quietly, trading his usual pristine suit for his favorite pair of jeans and a long-sleeved Georgetown t-shirt. He runs his fingers through his hair before throwing an Orioles cap on his head.

He leaves Alicia a note, just in case she wakes before he returns, picks up his keys from the bowl near the door, and rides the elevator downstairs.

He drives on auto-pilot to the Starbucks nearest her apartment and orders two grande pumpkin spice lattes. The barista is thrilled; it's the first day for PSLs, and Will is the first to order one. When the drinks are piping hot and ready, he sticks two green plastic stoppers in the cups and takes them out to his car.

When he returns to her apartment, he tosses his baseball cap on the counter and nudges the door to the bedroom open with his shoulder. Alicia's still sleeping, in roughly the same position she'd been when he left about half an hour ago.

Will smiles to himself; this is about to become the best day of his life, not just his third favorite day of the year.

Removing the green plastic stopper from one of the cups, he kneels down next to the bed so the cup is level with her pillow. Alicia stirs, inhaling the scents of cinnamon and nutmeg rising with the steam from the cup. A smile appears on her face before she even opens her eyes.

"It's September first," he whispers happily, and she opens her eyes to find Will kneeling next to the bed, holding a Starbucks cup full of pumpkin spice latte.

"It's September first," she repeats, smiling, as she reaches her hand out to accept the latte. And then she realizes what's sitting on top of the cup and her hand freezes.

A silver, sparkling diamond ring.

"Five-hundred and forty-two days ago, I got shot in a courtroom," Will begins. "And five-hundred and forty-one days ago, you asked me to marry you in a hospital room. I said yes-of course I said yes-but on one condition. And that condition was that you would allow me to date you and charm the pants off of you. That you would let me propose to you, on one knee, with a ring, the whole nine yards, because that's what you deserved, and I wanted to give you everything."

Alicia nods tearfully.

"So, after a few months, when I had recovered and you'd gotten your affairs in order, I took you out on dates. I didn't let you pay for dinner. I sent flowers to your office. I made you pancakes on Sunday mornings and ate pizza with you on Friday nights. I got to know Grace and Zach and learned what a wonderful job you did raising them. I sat through dinners with the interrogation squad, also known as your mother and Owen, and was told I successfully passed the 'good enough for my sister/daughter' test. I got to to show you how much I loved you every single day, from the time you woke up in the morning to the time you fell asleep in my arms. So I guess the first question I have is: did I successfully charm the pants off of you?"

She giggles and nods in assent.

"Good. Now I have another question for you."

"Go for it," she says tearfully, echoing his words from a year and a half ago.

"Will you marry me?" Will asks, picking up the ring and holding it in front of her.

"Yes," Alicia says, and offers him her left hand. He slips the ring on her finger and sets the latte on the nightstand before tumbling back into bed and kissing her.

Alicia finds herself falling headfirst into a third reality, one she hadn't previously considered.

The one where she and William Paul Gardner get to be together.

Forever.

_Fin._


End file.
